


pub night

by Poose, seven_hells (Poose)



Category: British Actor RPF, Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/Poose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/seven_hells





	pub night

"They're fucking," Alfie declares confidently as he passes over the spliff.  Richard takes it, though he's already pretty buzzed, between the Moroccan black and Kit's insistence that he have  _one more half, mate, go on._  
  
"It's obvious."  
  
Richard is fond of Michelle: her throaty laugh, her voice, warm like the sea, the way her bum looks in her jeans. Never mind that she's twenty years his senior, that she plays his mother onscreen. He would, Christ, a thousand times, but Sean got there first. Sean always gets there first. His hand rests in the small of Michelle's back, and he whispers something in her ear, and she laughs at whatever it is, her mouth falling open.   
  
He catches him looking at her, his eyebrows raised in a slight challenge. Richard defers and turns back to Alfie, who's been talking the whole time. When he glances up once more, Sean's hand has drifted down to Michelle's arse.   
  
Richard thinks he might die of shame when Sean looks over and winks at him.   
  
~  
  
He skips the next pub night they have, pleads off with a migraine.   
  
~  
  
His scenes with Michelle are becoming more intimate, yet harder for them both. Robb is growing into a man, though he still needs his mother, and they talk about it, a little, over watery cups of craft services tea when they're waiting in costume for a rain delay to end.   
  
She slips into her Irish, he into his Scots, but the clothes mark them as characters still.   
  
Richard can thirst for Michelle, he knows, but Robb would not lust for Catelyn.   
  
His mind is all abuzz for their partner scenes within the tent. He has to tamp Richard down, but how can he, when she is so beautiful as them both? 

The mask of the man drops less and less, it seems, but he bleeds through all the same.  _How will that render,_ he wonders?  _A boy pretending to be his father, in love with his mother?_

__It will not do.  

~  
  
Pub night comes around again. He decides that he'll put in a brief appearance and then turn in early.  _One pint_ he tells himself, as he pays the cabbie. _Only the one_. And then back to the hotel to run lines and do pushups for the sex scenes he knows are immanent.   
  
The warmth of the pub hits him when he pushes in the door. It is a modern place - has to be, to fit their crew - lots of brass and wood polished to a golden gleam.   
  
Kit stands him a half. Alfie finds them, coaxes them out back for furtive puffs on a vaporizer, and then Lena is making everyone play darts, and there's vodka shots involved. The promise of _just the one drink_ has long been forgotten.   
  
It's all a laugh until she shows up, and when she walks his way, smiling, Richard's head clears. He feels sober yet the earth is still spinning.   
  
"I thought you were only staying for _one drink_?" she says, looking at the pint in his hand. "You told everyone."   
  
"Well, you know Kit," he says, taking a drink to cover his nervousness.  _Why is he nervous? They work together every day._ "Can I get you a drink?" he asks.   
  
"Sean's got them," she says, and indeed he does. Bitter and lager, one in each hand, and headed right for Richard's table.   
  
"Oh," he says. "Okay."   
  
"Here's your pint, love," Sean says, putting it on the table.   
  
"I'm just --" she points in the general direction of the toilets, and Sean nods her off. "Aye."   
  
Richard takes another swallow of his cider. Sean is taciturn, not one for small talk, but he probably should say _something_. Protracted silences are strange, he thinks, and as he is fumbling for a topic -- the weather, no, or the football, maybe -- Sean says, point blank, "Do you want to fuck her?"   
  
He nearly trips over his own feet. "Beg pardon?" he says. He must be drunk to have imagined that, drunker than he thought he was.   
  
"Michelle," he says, meeting Richard's eyes. "I see the way you look at her."   
  
"Look, Sean, mate--" Richard starts, because the last bloody thing he needs is for Sean to get jealous (he is _wildly_ jealous, Richard's heard, people say) or to throw a punch. He's known for his quick temper. "--it's not like that." 

"What's not like what?" Michelle asks, rejoining them.   
  
Sean goes silent and glares at Richard. She takes in his face and shakes her head. 

"Did he frighten you?" she asks. "I told you," she turns to Sean, "buy the lad a drink first, for heaven's sake."   
  
Sean's fingers drum on the table.   
  
"Have I missed the plot?" Richard asks.   
  
"You want him," Sean says plainly, to her, like they're discussing where to have dinner, "and it's _painfully_ obvious he wants you."   
  
"Hello?" Richard says, "I am, like, right here?"   
  
From across the pub he can hear Jason and Emilia shouting in Dothraki. They claim to be fluent in it now, though they have no cause to kill one another, and the language is mostly full of words for death, dishonor, fuck, horse, and grass.   
  
Michelle sips her lager and places her hand atop Richard's. Her fingers are cool and dry.   
  
"Richard, my love," she purrs. "Would you like to spend the night with us?"   
  
His eyes go wide. "Are you taking the piss?"   
  
Sean's weathered face cracks into a grin. He leans over, and says, "Not a bloody chance," in a low voice that shoots straight through Richard's spine.   
  
He looks between them in disbelief. He makes up his mind before they can tell him it's a joke.   
  
"Yeah." He drains his pint and slams it on the table, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Yeah, fuck it. Why not."   
  
~  
  
Extricating himself isn't so hard, though Kit whines a little. They leave first and meet him down the block with a taxi. Sean is standing on the curb, smoking a cigarette, which he throws down into the gutter when Richard comes close.   
  
"Do I have to sit in the middle?" he whines, as Sean squeezes in next to him.   
  
"No," Michelle says, just as Sean says, "Yes."   
  
Their weight smushes him from either side. Michelle's leg is touching his own, and even though they are both wearing jeans, he swears he can feel the smoothness of her skin beneath.  
  
"So," he says, feeling small and helpless and useless as a teenager. "Is this, um, a thing you two do on the regular? Not that I mind, really," he babbles, when Michelle shuts him up with a kiss. A soft noise catches in his throat as her lips part his, as she eases past his teeth with her tongue.   
  
"Mmph," he says. His mouth yields to hers again and he whimpers as she sucks his lower lip between her teeth.   
  
"Careful," says Sean, teasing over his shoulder. "She likes to bite."   
  
Richard wants to say  _I'll remember that_  but his already-muddled thoughts turn to mud when Sean cups the back of his head and presses him into Michelle once more. He feels heady with it, with the closeness of the cab and the spin of drink and pot, the confused realization that his own feelings for Michelle are all tangled up with Robb's for Catelyn, and that the man who plays his father is whispering filthy instructions into his ear.   
  
"She wants you between her legs, boy," Sean says. "Always talking about that pretty mouth of yours, she is, aren't you, pet?"   
  
Michelle draws back from her biting kisses and says, with exasperation, "One time, Sean. I mentioned it _once_ , months back."    
  
"Months?" Richard croaks. They've been doing this for months, that much is an open secret, but she talked about him? _Like that?_  

"Leave it to you to remember every word. He's so jealous," she tells Richard, threading his fingers with her own, and that is not what he wants to hear. Sean's likely to leave him with a cracked rib and a bloody lip if he so much as looks at her wrong, and yet she's kissing him once more, licking her tongue against his teeth, and he should have said no, he should make them stop the taxi, but her mouth is on him and his blood thrums in his ears. 

Sean rubs the flat of his hand along Richard's spine. The touch makes him shiver, but not so much as the lips behind his ear, the dirty words that take them from Belfast's high street to their hotel on the outskirts of town.   
  
When he stands up, his erection is tenting the front of his jeans, and he is ninety percent sure that the doormen are laughing at him, much like Sean is when they barrel into the lift.   
  
Richard stares very hard at the numbers as they ascend, but in the stainless steel door he can see the blurred reflection of the two of them, kissing behind his back.   
  
Michelle grasps his hand when the fifth floor pings, and Sean takes this yet another opportunity to grope her, even smacking her arse as she is fumbling with the keys for the door.   
  
"Ouch!" she yelps, her voice cracking.   
  
The door opens inward and the three of them spill inside. Sean catches Michelle's waist in his hand and she melts under his touch. When she looks over at Richard her eyes are hungry. But he is just a boy, and Sean is a man, and how could he ever hope to sate her?   
  
He stalls, walks a few paces towards the minibar. "Should we, I dunno, have a drink? Or we could order food. I could murder a plate of chips," he says, touching his belly, but the words are drowned by Michelle's mouth. It tastes of Sean, of bitter beer and nicotine. She grabs him by the lapels and steers him onto the bed.   
  
She climbs over him, pushing him onto his elbows, and his hands go to cup her arse through her jeans. From behind her, Sean laughs softly, and he feels heat prick up his neck. _Don't laugh at me,_ he thinks. _I want her too._ Richard's fingers tighten their grip as she grinds down against him. Michelle does bite, just as Sean promised. She nips at his neck, running her nails along the the bare flesh of his stomach where his shirt has ridden up. 

"Been working out?" she asks, tracing the muscles there. He swallows hard and says, "For the show."

"My little boy is all grown up," she says, falling on his mouth once more. He wraps his hands around her back, learning the ridges of her spine, tasting the flesh of her neck.  A heavy weight settles on the bed next to him.  _Sean,_  he thinks, as she sits up astride him and goes to kiss her lover. Richard's hands frame her hips, thumbs seeking the skin of her stomach. Sean kisses her in kind, with his hands cupping her face gently but his mouth acting of its own accord. When she bites, Sean bites back. Richard is jealous, himself. He wants to please her like Sean does, but he wants to do the older man one better. 

Richard's mouth is dry to watch them, as Sean slips a hand down the front of her t-shirt and kneads her breast. He opens the top button on her jeans, and without breaking away from Michelle's mouth, moves Richard's hand over to help him with the zipper.   
  
Clothes come off in haste, his own shirt and hers. Sean's jacket joins Richard's trousers on the floor, and then he strips Michelle's jeans off of her. They are so tight that they turn inside out when he takes them off. Beneath she has on black lace: a bra with a front clasp and knickers to match.   
  
Richard groans. He can't believe he gets to see this, that Sean would share Michelle with him, that she even wanted scrawny Scottish  _him_  in the first place. Yet it seems they both do, when Michelle is panting beneath him, with her legs spread and her eyes begging, and Sean is kneeling behind him, restless rough hands roving across his back.   
  
Michelle reaches a hand up for Richard's face and Sean says, "I want you to make her come. Can you do that, boy?" and Richard is nodding his fervent yes to Michelle's soft stomach and sweet inner thighs. He licks against the lace of her knickers and Sean chuckles when she moans.   
  
"Careful," he chastens. "She'll kick out at you." He idly strokes Richard's back as he soaks her panties through with his tongue. Already she is panting, her hips pulsing up to seek the friction of his mouth.   
  
"You can bite her there as well," Sean murmurs, as Richard draws down her knickers. He explores her with his fingertip, noting what places draw up gasps and which silence.   
  
"Sod off," Michelle says, to the ceiling. Richard licks her back to front until the bedcover is wet from it, and curls two fingers inside her as he sucks on her clit. He pulls off to tease with teeth and she kicks her leg in frustration.   
  
"Goddamn it," she nearly shouts.   
  
"Is it like you imagined?" Sean asks her, from behind Richard. It makes his cock flex hard, the dirty flow words, her body flush against him, as he pictured it and so did she. And most of all the realization that _they talked about this._  

"That warm wet mouth, our boy fucking you with his tongue?"

He is not far off from the truth. Her buttocks rest in his hands as he pulls her onto him, and at a commanding word from Sean her hand goes to touch herself as Richard drives his tongue into a point and feels her shake and sob against him.   
  
Her cunt is warm like a kiss, wet like summer rain, and to feel her come once is like drinking the raindrops.   
  
The second time is more gentle. He nuzzles against her, mindful of his nascent beard, and licks her clean. She cries out again, weaker and gasping, and Richard would keep going -- wants to keep going, wants to drown in the taste of her -- but for Sean's gruff, "Enough, lad," as he lays a hand on his shoulder and draws him up.   
  
Michelle is panting beneath them, her hair in tangles, her cheeks suffused with a flush. Her bra is still on, one strap slipping off her shoulder to reveal the upper curve of her breast.   
  
If he cannot taste her then he needs to touch her again, so he lets his hand graze her inner thigh, her outer lips, and she backs away, overstimulated. Her eyes pop open and she finds Sean.   
  
"And you?" she asks him. "I was not the only one to mention it."   
  
Richard swallows in disbelief, turns his head to look at Sean, solemn-faced and towering behind him. Sean looks at him with thoughtful eyes and catches Richard's bottom lip with his thumb. As if on instinct Richard draws it into his mouth and slides his tongue across the rough pad. He sucks and then bites, like a petulant kitten, and Sean grumbles when Michelle laughs from deep within her throat.   
  
"That is lovely," she says, "But I wonder. Do you want to suck some cock?" she asks, "Because I'd _quite_ like to see that."   
  
Her cheeks are pink and her eyes sparkle. She makes it sound so delicious, so _naughty._  
  
"Christ," Sean says, "I love it when you talk dirty. You game, boy?" he inquires of Richard's neck. 

"Fuck, yes," he says, wanting only to please her.   
  
"Come where I can see you," she tells Sean. As he comes to kneel at her side, Richard is forced to scoot back and go on all fours to get at his cock. He mouths at Sean's crotch, letting his breath spill hot against the cloth of his boxers. When Sean pulls them down, Richard's mouth begins to water. He's huge, and hard, and gorgeous, and he's suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to service him, to make this the best blowjob he's ever going to get. For Sean, but even more for Michelle's benefit.His own hard-on doesn't matter, nothing else matters but getting Michelle off, turning Michelle on, making Michelle happy.   
  
He likes to suck dick on occasion, but he's an actor. Everything is better with an enthusiastic audience. He exhales hot and heavy along Sean's length, pressing a line of sucking kisses up the shaft.   
  
"Fucking hell," Sean grits out, when he closes his lips around the head and begins to suckle gently. He runs two fingers along the underside, fingers still sticky from Michelle, and when he slides his lips down the shaft he can taste her there, as well, the residue from his fingers.   
  
"Show-off," Michelle says, when he has relaxed enough to deep throat Sean's cock. He is pleased with himself, even more so when she rasps, "You're doing such a good job. Isn't he, love?"   
  
Sean grabs either side of his head and fucks into his mouth so hard that Richard's eyes begin to water. The tears turn into those of pleasure when Michelle shifts her position so that she can still see them, but this time with her hand on Richard's aching cock.   
  
"Such a good boy," she tells him, with her hand milking him from root to tip. "Isn't he good?" she asks Sean, who grunts his assent. All his clever japes have deserted him, but Richard doesn't have much to say either, with his mouth being fucked full of hard cock and Michelle tugging him in the same rhythm.   
  
When Sean comes it is in Richard's mouth, saying Michelle's name, and when Richard thursts into the circle of her furiously working hand, the only words he can form in his mind are  _yes_  and  _please_  and  _so fucking fucking full._  
  
He comes into her palm, and after he has swallowed Sean's come, she has him lick up his own. She is glowing, and he is spent, and even Sean seems pleased.   
  
For a typical pub night, it hadn't turned out so bad. 

  


 

 

 


End file.
